


i am done with my graceless heart

by amosanguis



Series: Sherlock and Mycroft, Smaug and Scatha [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Episode AU: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Sherlock is Smaug, Smauglock, Telepathy, The Holmes boys are dragons, title from a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were still brothers.  They were still dragons.  And they casted themselves as men throughout the many years – ignoring their goldlust in favor of survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i am done with my graceless heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Shake It Out" by Florence + The Machine

-z-

 

They were brothers.

They had been for hundreds of thousands of years – since the time of dwarves and wizards and elves and so many other creatures that used to cohabitate with man.

But now the dwarves and hobbits and Orcs, the Wargs and Elven Elks and Oiliphaunts had long since died off.  And the others – the elves and the wizards and the dragons – had lived on, had grown more powerful.  Had learned to hide themselves amongst men.  For men had taken over the world in their greed and creatures like Sherlock and Mycroft, as they call themselves now, were long forgotten and written off as fairy tales.

But they were still brothers.

They were still dragons.

And they casted themselves as men throughout the many years – ignoring their goldlust in favor of survival.

 

-x-

 

“Look at them,” Sherlock’s eyes narrow at the crying family, “do you ever think there’s something wrong with us?”

What he doesn’t say is – _Do you think we’ve lived too long?  Do you think we’ll ever mourn each other’s passing as they do?_

“All lives end,” Mycroft says as way of answer.  “All hearts are broken.  Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.”

And for a second Sherlock thinks that Mycroft’s talking about Irene, but with a little glimpse inside his head, Sherlock sees a flash of John Watson.  And Sherlock knows what his brother is getting at – that it may be time to move soon, that Sherlock’s affection for a lowly human may have grown too much.  But Sherlock fights him – just like he has every single other time.

“This is low tar,” Sherlock curls his upper lip, changing the subject to the cigarette in his hand in order to get the image of John out of his brother’s mind.

Mycroft allows the change in topic and pretends that he had been talking about Irene.

And as Sherlock walks away, Sherlock feels the subtle shift in the air as Mycroft flexes and refolds wings that aren’t on this plane of existence.  And outside, the wind blows a little bit harder, the snow falls a little bit faster.

And Sherlock comes back to the flat to find John in an armchair.  And for the briefest seconds he mourns John’s utter humanity – mourns how fragile he is.  But then he walks over to the armchair and he presses a light kiss to the side of John’s temple.

“Come to bed,” Sherlock whispers into John’s skin.  And John just smiles up at him and kisses him back.

 

-x-

 

Sherlock takes flight for the first time in a long time when he hears Mrs. Hudson cry out.

He doesn’t change forms, just shifts reality a little and then he’s at the bottom of the staircase and he sees the black scuff marks on the wall and Mrs. Hudson’s blood on the American’s ring and he feels the anger bubbling at the surface.

So he lashes out against the man – throws him out of the window, only just barely restraining himself from setting the American ablaze.

 

-x-

 

He lets Irene dance around him.  He plays the virgin and lets her speak her ridiculous innuendos and furrows his brows at her double meanings.

And then, when the moment’s right, when he has Mycroft as witness, he snaps his jaws and lets her dangle mercilessly.  He knows that Mycroft takes the security of their adopted country very seriously, so Sherlock doesn’t spare Irene another second of thought.

“She’s taken care of,” Mycroft tells him a week later.  Mycroft projects the image of Irene, cold and dead and eyes glazed over as she’s put into her coffin.

“It’s almost a shame,” Sherlock says as he sips at his tea, cocking his head to the side when he hears John enter their flat.  “Had she been born in another era, she would have been quite powerful.”

“And what about Moriarty?”

Sherlock rolls his eyes and says: “Just another human with an ego to rival my own.  His game will be a simple one.  Perhaps even a bit of fun so long as he keeps his scopes off of John.”

“Do you think you’ll ever tell him?” Mycroft asks, adding telepathically: _about what you are?  What we are?_

 _Not unless it’s absolutely necessarily_ , Sherlock tells Mycroft as he smiles up at John walking into the room.  _And by that, I mean he’s dying and I have to use my magic to save him_.

 _Let us hope that it never comes to that_.

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
